Bystander
by PhoenixFlame123
Summary: When bystanders overhear the wrong conversations, things can go awry. / One-shot. Very slight, innocent Destiel.


_I don't believe this is one of my better pieces, although I do enjoy the dialogue, but I'm putting it up mostly for the sake of publishing something. I write a lot of things and never post them, so this is mainly for the sake of adding to my published collection. Anyways, please give me some feedback and check out some of my other stories! This is very slight Destiel. _

**-oOo-**

**Summary:**

**When bystanders overhear the wrong conversations, things can go awry.**

**-oOo-**

"You're _kidding_ me."

Heather rubbed her face blearily, her sleep-deprived mind struggling to process the man's words. He was sympathetic enough, but no amount of understanding could change the fact that she had just missed her bus.

"Sorry ma'am, but the next bus to Omaha is in two hours. You'll have to wait until then."

"Okay, okay," Heather said, heaving a sigh, "thank you anyways."

She left the bus station, looking around the bustling street wearily. Two hours to kill and nowhere to go. She joined the flow of traffic walking down the sidewalk, looking for some kind of coffee shop to give her an extra energy boost. Peering over the head of two men walking side-by-side in front of her, she spotted a small one up ahead, and decided to waste some time there.

The guys in front of her seemed to be heading in the same direction, as well. They were standing very close to each other, and she grinned a little, because dang it if gay couples weren't _cute._

"Jesus, Cas!" one of them said suddenly, edging away, "personal space, c'mon!"

Oh.

Maybe not.

The one who had spoken, who happened to be leather-jacketed and very attractive, sighed at the injured silence the trench-coated one had taken on. "Come _on._ Angels aren't supposed to be so sensitive."

Heather blinked at this. _Angel?_ That was incredibly flirtatious - so, they _were_ together? She felt a small twinge of guilt about eavesdropping, but decided there wasn't too much harm in it. As they neared the coffee shop, Heather followed them in, dropping into line as the one with the trench coat - _Cas, odd name - _huffed back an answer.

"I can tell when you're insulting me, Dean."

"Well, that's new," muttered Leather-Jacket as they inched forward along the line. "Soon you'll be understanding sarcasm."

There was a beat. "Was _that_ sarcasm?" Cas asked, seeming to be genuinely confused.

Leather-Jacket threw his hands up in the air. "Wh - I don't know! Maybe!"

Cas tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. Heather stifled a grin at how perplexed he seemed while simultaneously feeling a bit of concern about his mental state. "Dean... you're not making much sense."

"Well, welcome to what it's like living with you, Cas," Dean sighed as they reached the counter.

_Living with you._ So, definitely a couple. An abusive couple? No, Dean didn't seem to be _abusive,_ per say. Heather shook her head as Dean ordered two coffees, maneuvering his companion to a table nearby.

"Caramel frappe, please," she ordered absently, taking the drink and sitting so she was within eyeshot of the odd couple. Cas was staring at his coffee in interest, arms hanging by his sides, while Dean took a chug.

"I don't understand why we're here, Dean," Cas said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, let's see." He set his coffee mug down decisively on the table, counting off items on his fingers. "Sammy's apparently on his period and wanted us out of the house. We spent the last few days running around friggin' Nebraska chasing a demon. And I've had a combination of five hours of sleep in the past three days. So I need a coffee."

Heather was trying not to stare. There were _three_ of them living together? Well, that was one way to live your life, she supposed, but then there was the whole business about _demons - ?_

"I thought you said _four_ hours was all you needed," Cas said curiously as he took a cautious sip.

Dean was exasperated. "For one day, maybe! I'm not like you, Cas. I actually have _needs._"

"Interesting," Cas said thoughtfully, putting down his coffee with a grimace.

Heather ran fingers through her hair, trying to wrap her head around all of this. They seemed to be talking nonsense - and Cas seemed _way_ too innocent to be real.

"Not to mention you almost frickin' dying," Dean sighed into his coffee, taking another gulp. "You know I hate it when you do stupid stuff like that."

"They were going to kill you otherwise," Cas replied quietly. There was a short pause. "You know I'd do anything for you, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Dean said, but not unkindly.

Heather's head was swimming. These guys were _definitely_ insane. Cute and very gay, but _insane_ to the highest degree. Or maybe they were some kind of, of FBI agents? Undercover cops?

"Maybe that's what's on Sammy's nerves. We both almost died there, for a second," Dean continued, tapping his fingers idly against the table.

"But we didn't," stated Cas plainly.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You don't say."

"Kiera did."

Dean stopped. There was a long silence. "Yeah. Yeah, she did."

"Why do humans always insist on sacrificing themselves for each other like she did?"

Woah, woah, _woah,_ hold up there - somebody had _died?_ Had they _killed_ someone? And what was this business about '_humans'? _Heather was flat-out staring at the weirdo in the trench coat now, his coffee cooling in front of him, talking about _humans _and_ angels _and_ demons - _

Dean seemed unperturbed as he promptly replied, "Says you, mister don't-hurt-Dean over here. I think you're forgetting your own little 'sacrifice' back there -"

"You're _different,_" Cas insisted. "Kiera hardly knew us."

"Yeah," Dean said, "and maybe that's the difference between humans and angels, eh?"

Cas was silent for a long moment. "Maybe." They sat for a long second, just looking at each other.

Heather's caramel frappe sat nearly untouched in front of her as she swallowed and swallowed again. She was in a coffee shop listening to two insane people talk to each other. She tried to figure out what she needed to do - call 911? The hospital? The nearest insane asylum? And who _knew_ how unstable this "Sammy" had to be?

"Though you're not too bad, yourself," Dean said, breaking his friend's gaze. He took another sip of coffee while a faint smile traced itself across Cas's face. "Your buddy Ambriel, on the other hand..."

Cas grimaced. "Ambriel wasn't supposed to show up. But I do believe he thought he was doing what was best."

"And almost got you killed," Dean muttered into his coffee.

"He almost got you killed, as well," Cas seemed to remind him.

"Yeah, well." Dean coughed a little. "Don't know what I'd do without you."

There was a long, weird silence, both of them just sitting there, looking at each other. Eventually, Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Compliments, Cas. Remember what we said about compliments?"

"Thank you," Cas replied automatically, as if rehearsed.

"There it is." Dean downed the last bit of his coffee as Heather felt herself start to hyperventilate. She thought she might have had them pinned: 'Cas' was mentally challenged in some way, considering his confusion about sleep habits and coffee, while Dean must have been schizophrenic or sociopathic - maybe both.

They were getting up together, Dean looking accusingly at Cas's undrunk coffee. "So, no coffee for future reference?" he asked pointedly. He took the cup and dumped it out along with his own. The two made for the exit silently, standing _way_ too close together again, still blurring the boundary of whether they were together or not. Heather started to relax as they the door swung open. What had she been _thinking,_ following them -?

Then, of course, she heard one of them stop from behind her. "Go ahead, I'll catch up in a second," she heard Cas say, Dean shutting the door behind him trustingly. She tensed up as she heard his footsteps clack along the floor back in her direction. Finally, they stopped right behind her. She froze up in terror.

"It's okay. You don't have to be scared," came the voice. Heather was practically shaking as Cas went to the side of the table opposite hers, sitting down calmly. He peered into her eyes weirdly, crossing his arms on the table. "You're not a very good eavesdropper."

Heather just stared at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth, but no coherent thoughts formed.

The trench-coated man sighed. "You probably th-"

"You're _insane!_" Heather suddenly shouted. They were almost alone in the coffee shop, the only other customer giving her a weird look before slipping away.

_ Awesome_. Alone with the crazy guy who thought he was an angel.

"I _am_ an angel, and I'm not crazy," he answered her thoughts. She pushed her chair back as if to leave, but found she couldn't move. "Stay."

She was shivering and very afraid. "Don't hurt me please, I won't call the police or anything -"

Cas rolled his eyes in a similar manner to how Dean had. "I told you I'm not going to hurt you. I just don't want to put you in danger." He huffed, resting his elbows on the table. "You probably want some kind of explanation. Well, let me say that everything we were talking about was real. We're not crazy. I really am an angel, and Dean and I really do hunt down demons. I'm sure you heard Dean reference 'Sammy' - Sam is his brother, who helps us."

"Why are you telling me this?" Heather choked out in a strained whisper, strangely wanting to believe him.

"I figured I owed you an explanation," Cas shrugged lightly. "Seems like a pretty terrible conversation to drop in on."

Heather found herself nodding violently. Cas grimaced.

"Don't worry. You won't be in any danger from having overheard. I'll fix it quickly enough. Maybe next time, don't randomly listen in on strangers."

Cas reached out a hand to her forehead.

She shrunk away, blurting, "Wait!"

He paused.

She shook her head, odd curiosity still overcoming her. "So, 'Sammy' is Dean's brother - okay - and maybe you are an angel, I don't know - but what are you and Dean?"

Cas's brow furrowed. He tilted his head (rather adorably) to the side. "Dean is my friend."

Heather waited expectantly. Nothing else came. "Seriously? That's all?"

The man seemed incredibly perplexed at what she was trying to insinuate. "We're not related, if that's what you -"

"The personal space? The long looks? _'You know I'd do anything for you'? 'I don't know what I'd do without you'? _And you're seriously telling me you're _just_ friends?"

Having caught on, Cas looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. "I don't think Dean -"

"So, no."

Cas looked down at his hands, a flash of something Heather couldn't identify in his eyes. "I don't think Dean would ever be... _open_ to that."

Heather raised her eyebrows. "But you would."

Cas didn't answer.

"Well, one possibly insane person to another, go for it."

Cas peered up at her.

"Trust me, pal. '_I don't know what I'd do without you'_ is signal enough."

Cas seemed to shake out of his trance. "I don't think that's a possibility," he said, regret tinging his voice. "But... thank you, I suppose." He sighed deeply, raising his hand again. "Goodbye, Heather." He leaned forward towards her forehead.

"Wait, how did you know my -"

Heather took a sip of her caramel frappe, taking a glance at her watch. She groaned to herself. A whole hour and a half left until the next bus. She had no idea how to pass all the time. She leaned back in her chair, alone in the coffee shop, watching through the window. A man in a leather jacket and a man in a trench coat strolled by the coffee shop, standing very close together, and Heather couldn't help but smile because dang it if gay couples weren't _cute_.

**-oOo-**

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